Super Transdimensional Battle Wizard Hero Force
by Mistress Nika
Summary: Harry Potter. Reluctant dimension-traveling hero. "If I ever get back, I'm going to murder them both. Messy and violent."
1. Harry Does Pokemon

**Title:** Super Ultra Transdimensional Battle Wizard Hero Force  
**Author:** Mistress Nika  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Summary:** Harry Potter, in _SPACE_!!, and elsewhere. Harry must travel through different worlds, putting right what once went wrong and hoping that his next leap will be the leap home, and generally screwing around in various cannon worlds while using villains (and heroes) as punching bags when things get too much for him. D'oh!  
**Pairings:** Ever-changing, probably minor and not involving Harry.  
**Warnings:** Multi-AU and Crossovers, het, slash, femslash, language, violence, dimension traveling, SlightlyCrazyHarry, SuperHarry at times (possibly literally, if I can get him into the spandex)  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor another other previously copywrited...written...(?)... work featured herein.  
**Notes:** The fic title is supposed to be an ode to the overblown and sometimes senseless names given to some anime.  
**Prologue Notes:** This entire idea was based on a plot bunny involving a cynical, drunken and painfully logical Harry in the semi-idealic Pokemon world. Unfortunately, I don't really know enough about the Pokemon anime to write a fic where Harry accompanies the main characters on their "journey". So, my plans to have Harry convince half the cast that they're gay (whether they are or not), ruminate on the consequences of "blasting off" and point out how many times the cast has been fooled into obvious traps by a trap (a guy in girls clothes) were derailed. However, I didn't give up and this fic was born. Due to its somewhat chaotic nature, the prologue can easily be considered part of the main fic, even though I probably won't be writing anymore Pokemon scenes. The prologue is really just the idea which spawned the fic.

* * *

As they entered the town, his companions made a beeline for the hideous pink and yellow building with a large P. Harry assumed they were taking a bathroom break. After all, they'd been on the road for at least a week and had yet to duck behind a tree or anything. They must have been holding it for quite some time.

"Hey," he said friendly-like, stopping the nearest innocent townsperson. "Where's your pub?"

The man looked helpful, but confused. "What's a pub?" he asked innocently, as innocent bystanders are apt to do.

Harry's eye twitched menacingly. "Tavern?" he inquired patiently.

The man still looked confused.

"Bar?" An expectant pause. "Alcoholic beverage dispensing station?" he tried once more.

"Alk-ka-haal-lic?" the man asked.

"AAARRRG!!" Harry yelled. A vein was pulsing dangerously on his forehead and he'd begun to foam at the mouth.

The man slowly backed away from the strange and seemingly rabid boy.

"Rassel frassel!! RARG!!" Harry leaped at the poor man, intent on releasing all the stress, anger, frustration, hostility, annoyance, indignation, infuriation, vexation and various other nouns that had accumulated within him during his time in this world.

Ten minutes later, he entered the Pee Building looking a little mussed, but much more relaxed. He was even smiling. Ash, Misty and Brock became very frightened.

"Hi, guys!" he greeted, walking over to them and leaning against the counter casually.

"Please don't kill me," Ash whimpered.

* * *

AN: And then there were quotes such as these. Cookies to you if you can guess who says them (PSST! Five of the six are Harry winkwink) and/or to whom.

"You're a guy dressed like a girl. That doesn't make you a girl. That makes you a crossdresser."

"What the-!? Why are you just standing there yelling? Don't you have a small army of strange and powerful creatures at your disposal? Kick their asses quick-like! I'm missing "All My Wizards"!"

"Oh, for the love of-! _Accio shiny-yellow-mouse-thing_!"

"Are you gay or do you just like to dress in women's clothes?"

"Oh my god! I'm _GAY_!"

"You're all walking talking cliches! Misty, you're the spunky female sidekick who is rebelling against her family and is in love with the hero, but refuses to admit it! Brock, you're the humorous pervert who's always trying to get into every girl's pants. Ash, you're the energetic and overly confident leader. Mostly incompetent, yet you somehow always pull through in the end, with a massive ability to get into trouble and completely clueless in just about every way. You've even got a cute yet annoying mascot!"


	2. Star Trekin' Across the Universe

**Verse this chapter:** Stargate SG-1  
**Canon Timeline:** Early-ish

* * *

**Chapter One:****  
**It was such a small, unassuming thing. They'd unearthed it in a far corner of Harry's parents' vault just after his nineteenth birthday. A flat silver disc about the size of a coin which flipped open to reveal a half dozen little knobs and gizmos and had a small switch on one side. If the switch was in a certain position, the entire thing could be spun around on its base while making a soft clicking sound. It was obviously meant to go on the wrist and perform some sort of function, as it wasn't ostentatious enough to be a piece of jewelry. It almost looked like some kind of muggle machinery part, if it weren't for the looping foreign script around the edges and the sturdy black band it was attached to.

"Maybe it's a watch," Hermione had suggested.

So, Harry had put it on and begun fiddling with it, watching the tiny crystals imbedded in the inner workings begin to glow softly. After all, if Hermione seemed unconcerned, it _had_ to be harmless.

"Give it a twist, mate!" Ron had said and Harry had done just that. It clicked rapidly as he turned it in a careless half circle, intent on winding it.

'I'm going to kill them,' he thought grimly as he ducked another streak of orange energy. Rolling behind a large boulder and ducking down, he continued grumbling to himself. 'If I ever get back, I'm going to murder them both, messy and violent. Then, I'll hang their bodies from my front door and construct a barricade around the house. Anyone who wants in will have to consent to a thorough cavity search and all items of suspicious origin will be destroyed before they make it into my presence.'

Peeking carefully out from behind his dubious cover, he waved the wand in his right hand while simultaneously squeezing off a shot with the strange gun in his left. It had been shoved into his hand during the confusion by an older man wearing military fatigues just before an explosion had rocked the area. People in tan, to match their desert surroundings no doubt, were running for their lives as small fighter-type craft shot bolts of energy at them. A larger craft was dropping energy balls at the ground, causing the violent tremors and explosions that regularly sent sand into the air only to rain back down on anyone who had been too close...and had survived.

Harry wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but he was intelligent enough to tell "guys who _will_ kill me" from "guys who _may not_ kill me." Thus, if he made himself useful in their escape to wherever that ring of water was taking them, he could hopefully convince them to listen to reason and not execute him on the spot.

A well placed banishing charm sent a large man in armor hurtling through the air before he could deliver the killing blow to a downed young man in tan, his staff landing several feet away. With a growl and a mutter of "I can't believe I'm doing this", he launched himself out from behind his boulder and sprinted across the intervening space, dodging energy blasts with all the speed and skill of one used to dodging spells from Death Eaters on a regular basis. Reaching the man who was obviously wounded and only now beginning to pick himself up, he skidded to a halt on his knees next to him and threw one of the man's arms over his shoulders. He began to help him up, only to be forced to roll both away as another bolt of energy slammed into the ground where they had just been.

"Stop that!" he exclaimed angrily, using the strange gun to bring down the enemy with one shot of crackling blue energy. He was tired, dirty and at the end of his patience with all things strange and bizarre. Whipping his wand around in an arc, the nearest line of advancing armored troops were sent flying into those behind them. Even one of the smaller craft above them faltered before falling out of the sky with a heavy thud right onto it's allies. Magic and technology don't mix.

With an exasperated huff, he helped the man to his feet and began a staggered run toward the water circle thing. Two men and a woman in green camouflage had taken up defensive positions around the circle and were laying down suppressive fire as a fourth man with glasses hurried the escapees through. Hoping to all that was good and just that they were not committing ritual suicide or something equally ironic, he helped his injured dead weight to tumble through before following after him.

The burning impact of a lucky shot to his back was a painful counterpart to the frigid cold he experienced before collapsing to his knees on a metal ramp. He panted heavily for a moment, bent over and supporting himself with his hands, before looking up. Obviously a muggle military base, he decided as he watched people in uniforms and fatigues, some in lab coats, helping injured people onto stretchers before hurriedly wheeling them away. His vision began to dim and the pain in his back dulled to a throb just as he felt two sets of hands under his arms. Unable to stand, he let them drag him down the ramp and gently lift him onto a gurney. The last thing he knew before darkness claimed him were the concerned eyes of the female doctor he'd seen giving orders and a prick in his arm as she spoke calming words to him.

When he next woke his head was foggy and pounding viciously, his entire body ached and he had to pee. Upon forcing his uncooperative eyes to open, he also found that his vision was blurry and, judging by the unholy brightness and smell of antiseptic, he was in an infirmary. There were also voices from somewhere to his left.

"I'm telling you, Jack. He's not one of ours," a man's voice stated calmly.

"Well, he's not ours," another man, obviously 'Jack', said with a slightly annoyed tone. "And he's not a snakehead or a Jaffa. So, what? He's just a guy who decided he'd take a walk through the desert on a supposedly uninhabited world during a surprise attack by Toughnewt-"

"Tefnut," yet another man corrected before informing them in a rapid babble, "a minor goddess of water, or rather moisture, I guess you'd call her Ra's niece, who was supposedly created by Atum from his mucus...although according to some texts, Atum was a hermaphrodite who created both Tefnut and Shu by impregnating himself or masturbating and-"

"Daniel! Daniel!" Jack shouted almost frantically, interrupting the prattle. "Overshare." There was a drawn-out pause before he continued, "Anyway..."

The first man took up where they'd left off with a strained, "No, I am not saying that. It's doubtful his appearance there at such a critical moment was a coincidence and yes, he helped us, but he's _not_-" The man cut himself off as he became irritated that 'Jack' apparently wasn't listening to him and seconds later his voice changed and became deeper, echoey and all around creepy. "**The identities of all those at the base are known to us and he is not one of them. Nor is he a spy, as we would have likely noticed him earlier. As you said, he is not Tok'ra, Tauri, Goa'uld or Jaffa. He is a mystery, as are the abilities he displayed.**"

"What abilities?" a woman asked from somewhere closer to him. A woman who's voice he recognized as belonging to the one who'd likely sedated him and he quickly dubbed her 'Doctor'. There was the click of a pen and a quick scratching on paper as she began taking notes.

Another woman answered from the group congregated farther away. "It was almost like telekinesis," she began eagerly. "He waved his hand, or whatever was in his hand, and Jaffa were thrown back or knocked out. He even dropped a Death Glider out of midair! We would've had a lot more casualties if it hadn't been for him."

"Yes," yet another man said from the group, making Harry wonder just how many people had gathered to discuss him. "He saved my life. He was only a short distance from the Stargate and could have easily escaped, yet he chose to help me instead. Both Lantash and I owe him our lives. We would not have survived had it not been for his selfless actions."

'Okay,' Harry thought to himself, having quickly closed his eyes to feign sleep when he'd first heard the voices. 'It was a really good idea to save that guy. Sounds like a suspicious lot and I doubt they'd be so willing to give me the benefit of the doubt if I'd just cut and run.'

"What's the diagnoses, Doctor?" still another man asked, or rather ordered. He had the tone of a man who was used to giving orders and getting respect from everyone around him. Definitely the big man in charge. He also had a drawling accent that the others did not. Harry had already decided that most of them seemed to be American. Or whatever this world's equivalent was. He didn't think he'd ever get over ending up in a world where all of Europe spoke American-English. Scary.

"Well, he's human, as far as I can tell," Doctor said, rustling papers and walking to the other side of the room. "That's what his DNA says anyway. I've been unable to conduct the standard MRI, or any other test really. Everytime I try, a strange energy renders all of my equipment useless. By the way, we'll need a new CT scanner, General. When we tried a head CT, his energy pulsed and it just...stopped working. We haven't been able to fix it since. I'm only assuming that he's not a Goa'uld since blood tests show no traces of Naquadah. Also, Sam, Teal'c and every Tok'ra who's been in the room with him says he's not." There was a pause and more rustling of paper before she continued. "The energy he possesses seems to dissipate after roughly forty minutes in any blood samples taken. He appears to have a moderately elevated metabolic rate which speeds up his healing significantly. I put him on a supplemental intravenous drip to be certain he gets the nutrients he needs, and removed it a few moments ago as he no longer seems to need it. The wound in his back is almost completely healed."

There were several shocked exclamations and the man with the creepy voice stated, "**Even with the healing benefits of a symbiote, he should still be severely injured, if not barely clinging to life**."

Doctor gave a huff at being interrupted. "Yes, well, be that as it may, the fact remains that in less than a day he has almost completely healed a near fatal wound. His body seems to store energy for later use. The moment I started the drip, his rate of healing skyrocketed. He's also become immune to three different sedatives and has an extremely high tolerance for most others."

"Conclusion, Doctor?" the General asked, obviously needing something more along the lines of a threat assessment than a scientific discovery.

"He's human," she stated succinctly, "probably mid-teens, with an incredibly potent immune system and an unknown energy that counteracts all electrical systems within two feet of him. If I were to make a guess, I'd say he's some sort of advanced human."

"And his energy? Is it a threat to this base?"

"Not to the best of my knowledge, sir. As I said, it seems to have a maximum radius of two feet and only the CT scanner has been destroyed. Everything else just needed a reboot."

"Well," Jack said in a falsely bright voice. "Shows over, boys and girls! Looks like we'll all just have to wait until he wakes up to get some answers."

Harry took this moment to make his presence known. Opening his eyes, he calmly and politely asked where he was.

Or rather, he tried to. What actually came out was more of a deranged gurgle followed by a surprised dry hack and ending with a ghastly moan.

There was a flurry of activity around him as those who had started to depart quickly returned and the doctor hurried to his bedside. "Easy," she said softly, bending over his prone form. "You were seriously injured."

He opened his mouth to try to speak again, but was stopped by a hand being placed behind his head and raising him up slightly. Too weak to protest, he could do nothing but allow it when the doctor trickled cool water into his mouth and urged him to swallow. Almost instantly his throat began working again and he made that fact known. "Who..? What..? Where..?" He frowned at his inability to form a complete sentence.

The doctor only smiled. "My name is Janet. Can you tell me yours?"

"Harry," he managed to croak out, glad for the first time that he was mistaken for being younger than he actually was. "Where am I?"

Janet looked up questioningly at someone and a bald man with a stern expression entered his line of sight. "You're in the SGC infirmary. On Earth," he added, almost as an afterthought. "I'm General Hammond, the leader of this facility. I have several questions for you, if you feel up to it."

Harry could sense that was not a question, but he was saved once again by the angel in the white lab coat. Doctor Janet Fraiser, from what he picked up from the arguing going on above him, was an unrelenting woman when it came to her patients. Much like a certain medi-witch from his school years, she was adamant that he would not be going anywhere or answering any questions until she gave him a clean bill of health. Hammond obviously respected her, but was reluctant to give in.

Harry used the brief respite to take stock of his condition. He was sore all over, but his head and vision were starting to clear as the last of the sedative wore off. He still had to pee, much to his dismay, because he clearly wasn't meant to be getting up anytime soon. Both his ankles and wrists were secured to the bed with restraints and he was wearing hospital pajamas. All of his belongings had been removed from his person, including his wand and that damned Not-Watch that had gotten him into this mess, even the earring he'd gotten two years ago in a bout of drunken rebellion, urged on by an equally inebriated Ron and Seamus.

This wasn't the first time Harry had ended up striped of all possessions and tied to a bed, much as he'd like to say it was. Since this crazy journey began he'd been chased by a pitchfork toting lynch mob, kidnapped by ninjas, kidnapped by pirates, kidnapped by ninja-pirates (he was still unsure how that one worked), kidnapped by _space_ pirates, unknowingly recruited into an organization of evil, attacked by scantily clad young women with superpowers, met six different versions of himself including two females, met a multitude of demonlike creatures both good and bad, been blown up by a short redhead with a liking for explosions, been mistaken for a girl more times than he could count (he couldn't help that he was so pretty), been arrested for a variety of crimes, and had ended up unconscious in bed with no less than three princesses with no idea how he had gotten there. He was still trying to forget the guy with the whip who insisted he call him Count Sexybitch.

At this point, there wasn't much that could serve to panic Harry anymore. Mostly, he just found himself annoyed at everything. He just wanted to get home where he could put his best friends out of his misery and shun all human contact for the rest of his life.

With a sigh, he sent a small surge of magic down his arms to his hands, completely disintegrating the restraints. Then, he did the same to those around his ankles. He ignored the arguing doctor and general, as well as the group behind them who tensed and reached for weapons when they noticed his actions. Sitting up, despite the general full body ache, he swung his legs over the bed and glanced around. Upon spotting a door that likely led to a bathroom, he casually trudged over and disappeared inside.

Jack and Teal'c raised an eyebrow simultaneously. Daniel snickered. Sam suppressed laughter. The hodgepodge of Tauri and Tok'ra were both amused and wondering if they should go after their unknown visitor. He appeared completely nonthreatening with his slumped and bleary-eyed shuffle, but they all knew appearances could be deceiving.

Neither Hammond nor Fraiser had noticed the departure, too embroiled in their argument ("Sir!" "Doctor!" "Sir!" "Doctor!" "Sir!") to take note of those around them. Hammond, the stalwart general that he was, refused to let an unknown potential hostile go without interrogation. Janet, as a doctor and the mother of a teenager, insisted that her patient be treated with kindness and allowed to heal before any questions were asked.

The sound of a toilet flushing broke up the dispute.

After taking care of business, Harry returned to the room under the amused and disbelieving stares of the others. Without saying a word, he climbed back up on his bed, sat with crossed legs and looked up at the now silent group. Projecting as much innocence and trustworthiness as he could, he said simply, "I had to pee."

A chuckle, quickly cut off as he restrained himself, sounded from Jack and Harry looked over with a smile. Hammond frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when Fraiser suddenly invaded Harry's personal space.

"Ack!" he exclaimed as he was blinded in first his right eye and then his left by a penlight. He flailed ineffectively in a futile effort to evade the doctor's attentions as she went about checking his pulse, blood pressure, heart rate, temperature and god only knows what else while simultaneously bombarding him with questions.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine."

"Your back? Any lingering pain?"

"Little itchy."

"Eyes are clear. How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Hmm. Signs of childhood malnutrition..."

"I am _not_ short!"

From amongst the group of amused onlookers Jack snickered. "Maybe we should have the doc do the interrogating from now on."

"I heard that, Colonel!" Turning to Hammond, she reluctantly conceded, "He seems perfectly fine to me, sir. His wounds have healed and he's completely thrown off the sedative. Much as I would prefer it, I see no reason to keep him here any longer."

Hammond nodded seriously and motioned two guards forward from their posts next to the door. Ten minutes later, Harry found himself chained to a chair in a cell being questioned.

"What's your name, kid?"

"You can call me Doctor."

"That's not a name."

"John Smith, then."

"What planet do you come from?"

"Gallifrey."

"Who do you serve?"

"Colonel Ronald MacSanders."

"Occupation?"

"Oh, mostly just Star Trekkin' across the universe, but only going forward 'cause I can't find reverse."

"What were you doing on that planet?"

"Well, you see, I'm banned from Argo..."

"ENOUGH!"

Apparently, Harry's winsome smile and twinkling eyes (ala Dumbledore) did little to win over the soldier who was rapidly turning purple and beginning to foam at the mouth. Unable to resist, Harry cocked his head to the side innocently and said, "You look like you could use some shore leave."

"AARRGGHH!!" the man exclaimed and lunged at Harry with fingers crooked, intent on clawing his eyes out, only to be dragged away and sedated.

'Wow,' Harry thought with a smile. 'That would have sucked. I need my eyes to read minds.'

By way of skimming his interrogator's surface thoughts and responding to them appropriately, he had confused and infuriated three different men. He was surprised they hadn't figured out what he was doing yet, but the interrogators weren't really in much of a condition to explain why his seemingly random words had set them off. He watched in amusement as a group of soldiers and medical personnel carted away the babbling, incoherent interrogator.

'Note to self: find out what Star Trek and Doctor Who are. Also, that chicken looked tasty.'

* * *

**A/N:** Just to explain, the interrogator's surface thoughts were something along the line of, "I forgot to set my VCR to record Doctor Who." Cue random thoughts of various Doctor Who episodes. "I'm hungry. Do I want MacDonald's or KFC?" Cue images of burgers and chicken. "Stupid song! Get out of my head!" Cue Star Trekkin' to play in his head. "No! Get rid of that song with another!" Cue Banned from Argo. "ARG! KILL! BOY!"

**A/N2:** Most chapters will not be this long. Just needed to explain how he ended up travelin' the 'verses.

**A/N3:** Feel free to suggest anime/tv shows/books/movies/etc that he should visit.


	3. The Nightmare Under Cheyenne Mountain

**'Verses this chapter: **Stargate SG-1, Doctor Who**  
Canon Timelines: **Early-ish, 10th Doctor

**Chapter Two:  
**In his office, Dr. Daniel Jackson stood over a table full of rare artifacts from a long extinct civilization. It had been three weeks since the latest catastrophe and he felt he was due a little downtime. Which, for him, meant working obsessively until someone, usually Jack, realized they hadn't seen him for a couple days. Then, they'd show up to drag him off for some 'fresh air' and something more substantial than coffee, but until then he was enjoying his peace and quite, doing what he loved, with no threat of an intergalactic disaster looming on the horizon.

There was suddenly a loud pop behind him and a cheery voice called, "Hiya!"

"Ahhh!" Daniel screamed and dropped the artifact he'd been examining. Spinning around, he found their odd 'guest' smiling at him sheepishly.

"Oops," Harry chuckled with a guilty expression. "Was that valuable?"

Glancing down near his feet at the shattered relic, the usually mild-mannered archeologist could feel a case of the twitchies coming on, starting with a tic under his left eye and moving on to the compulsive clenching of his fists. He glared with all his considerable might at the green-eyed menace that had been plaguing the SGC for nigh on eight months now.

Harry shuffled his feet, clasped his hands nervously behind his back and took a half step towards the door. "Eh-heh-heh," he giggled awkwardly. When Daniel took a step forward, he hastily shouted, "Bye!" and disappeared with another pop.

With a growl, Daniel strode purposefully over to the phone and snatched it up. After punching a few numbers, rather viciously, he stated with all the venom he could muster, "The hobgoblin is back."

Meanwhile, Harry was sitting on the ceiling of the SGC canteen, through clever use of sticking charms, sampling each and every dessert they had to offer with great enjoyment. He hadn't bothered with disillusioning himself, as no one ever really looked up. He _had_ gotten a strange look from Teal'c, but the large man was oddly at ease with Harry's eccentricities and casually returned to his Jello stack.

Harry had to admit, if you ignored the fact that he'd arrived in this universe under fire and spent some time as a prisoner, this was one of the better worlds he'd visited. There were apparantly no magic-using humans on Earth, so there'd been no one to stop him from pretty much doing whatever he wanted. He'd apparated here and there, taking in the sights, mingling with the locals and making a general nuisance of himself.

It had done wonders for his attitude. After weeks spent sunning himself on pristine white-sand beaches, getting plastered in various night clubs, gambling away other people's fortunes (stolen, but they deserved it really) and basically glorifying in the debauched decadence of the most hedonistic places on the planet, there really wasn't any way he couldn't have relaxed at least a little bit.

When that alien armada tried to invade a few days into his well-deserved vacation, he'd blown them out of the sky with a super charged Reducto and gone right back to ravishing some diplomat's daughter in his rooftop hot tub. Of course, he'd had to make a hasty exit when SGC personnel showed up, but it didn't take long for him to find other entertainment halfway around the world.

The four individuals he'd come to know as SG-1 had, at first, made a spirited attempt at capturing him, but he'd found it pretty simple to avoid this fate. If they were after him, he'd just not be there. If he saw guns come out, he'd pop off to explore somewhere else, usually with a cheeky grin and a wave at the frustrated group.

They'd panicked the first time he'd disappeared from their custody, but it quickly became obvious that he meant them no harm, for the most part. That one fellow called Mayborne had immediately rubbed him wrong. He'd blustered, shouted, glared superiorly, tried to order him around and threatened him repeatedly. He'd declared that it would be in Harry's best interest to help them with his powers, but only when they said to, of course.

Yeah. As if.

Harry turned him into a newt.

Jack kept him in a little terrarium in his office until someone, namely Hermione the Blonde, had squealed to the general. Harry had refused to turn him back until the marines staged a performance of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. He'd sold tickets and made a tidy sum.

Afterward, he'd reluctantly changed him back, minus the inside bits that would have let him breed, God forbid. The odious little parasite had immediately run to the president and whined about the new threat to Earth. Unfortunately for him, Harry'd already been having tea with the man for the past week.

Of course, even such a charming and devilishly handsome young man such as himself could wear out his welcome. He knew when he wasn't wanted. He could take a hint. The banner the scientists had strung up across the Stargate declaring "Go Away, Magical Hobgoblin!" was completely unnecessary.

So began his jaunt across the globe, taking in all the finest things this Earth had to offer. Of course, he couldn't let his new friends at the SGC forget about him, so he popped in every so often to say hi.

After learning of a certain alien race's habit of 'beaming' Jack away at inopportune times, he'd mimicked the technology with magic and whisked the man away for a vacation more than once. Hawaii may have been beautiful, but they quickly learned that Harry's odd brand of luck struck most favorably in Vegas. Now _that _was a wonderful city. Sin City. What a lovely name, and it certainly lived up to it.

Once, on a wining streak involving three jackpots, lots of booze and many women (and a few men, but we won't speak of that), Harry had tried to explain exactly where he came from to Jack. Unfortunately, his alcohol loosened tongue was apparantly too loose and it ended with Jack thinking he was some sort of benevolent traveler from an advanced race that hopped from planet to planet, 'wherever the solar winds may take him'.

Yes, apparantly he was an alien hippie. He didn't even try to correct him.

Speaking of Jack...

"Harry!" the man exclaimed as he entered the mess with a team of scientists in tow. One of their toys beeped loudly and the labcoat-wearing leader pointed upwards. Turning his gaze to the ceiling, and invariably to Harry, Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, for crying out loud! Get off the ceiling! You're making the lights flicker!"

Sure enough, his multitude of sticking charms was causing havoc with the wiring in the ceiling, making the lights flicker all across the base.

Harry shrugged his shoulders, canceled the charms and dropped to the floor, landing gracefully on his feet. A cacophony of crashing echoed throughout the room as his plates and bowls full of desserts also fell, without the natural feline grace he possessed. Everyone glared. He shrugged once again.

He was saved from having to explain why he had stolen one hundred and sixty-two bowls of orange sherbert by the blaring of klaxons and a call to stations to the tune of "Offworld Activation." It was a catchy little number.

Harry grinned brightly. "I saw a movie like this once."

Jack and a half dozen others immediately took off for the gate room at breakneck speed. Harry felt slighted. Was he no longer considered a priority? Did they not fear his awesome powers? Did they not want to go bowling next weekend? He, the magical space alien hobgoblin hippie, was supposed to be the center of their attention. He would have to remedy this.

Having nothing better to do, Harry followed them.

Of course, he felt no need to exhaust himself by running willy-nilly through the base, especially since he didn't have any of those handy cards which allowed him access to the most interesting of places. Instead, he just apparated directly into the control room, startling a short shriek out of a tech and making the general jump.

"Hiya!" he greeted Hammond, who he had learned did not like being called Georgie-Porgie, Georgie-poo or Georgette. Hey You was acceptable only during the first few weeks, until the man had realized that his last name was not actually a foul curse word in Harry's native tongue.

Said man scowled at Harry. "Hello," he responded with as much respect as one can give someone they clearly despise. "Don't touch that," he added when Harry moved to play with the flashing lights on a control panel. Harry reluctantly withdrew his hand.

Hammond was fun. He had come to the conclusion, along with most of the SGC, that Harry, while appearing to be a young human just out of his teens, was actually an alien child that just happened to look like an adult human. Thus, he treated him with the mixture of respect and wariness that he gave most alien races, but also seemed willing to put up with a lot that he probably wouldn't have had he known that Harry really was an adult. In fact, Harry was much older than he looked. He just liked screwing around on worlds where he wouldn't have to live with the consequences of his actions.

SG-1, out of breath and panting heavily, ran into the room at pretty much the same time. Well, Daniel was panting slightly. Sam just made a beeline for the same blinking lights that he himself hadn't been allowed to touch. He pouted. Teal'c raised an eyebrow at him. Jack smirked, somehow knowing exactly what he was pouting about.

"It's the Tok'ra," Sam declared after a brief moment of fiddling with something.

The tech, whom we shall call Bob, glared at her. It was Bob's job to inform the room who was coming through the Gate. It was his only job. It was stupid, but he did it and he did it well. He did not like her usurping his assigned task. He didn't go through the years of intense training needed to read that damn machine just to have some uppity astrophysicist come in and do it for him.

Harry, unknowing of Bob's ill temper (and let's be honest, he wouldn't have cared even if he _had_ known), smiled brightly. The Tok'ra were even more fun than Hammond. Be it Jacob, Martouf or Anise, he'd find some way to amuse himself with them.

As the Tok'ra party exited the 'Gate, Hammond couldn't help but edge away from Harry. He looked suspiciously excited to see them, especially considering how much he hated Anise. Actually, he was surprised to see the woman back so soon after her last encounter with the boy. Harry had said it was an accident, but the fact that he couldn't stop laughing didn't really lend credence to his claims.

It _did_ look like her eyebrows had finally grown back though.

"'Oh look!" Harry exclaimed brightly, his smile turning positively feral. "_Anise_!"

In a rather surreal display, Harry cackled and rubbed his hands together like some sort of tv villain. With a quick pop, he disappeared from the control room and reappeared in the Gate room, his nose not an inch from hers.

"Hi!" he exclaimed happily.

"**Ahhhh!**" she screamed like a little girl. She immediately spun around and darted frantically back up the ramp. Luckily, the Stargate disengaged just before she could run back through, thus saving herself from a rather embarrassing death. Unluckily (for her), she didn't stop and ran right off the back of the ramp. She hit the floor with a loud clang of skull on steel, knocking herself instantly unconscious.

Jacob tried not to laugh. He really did.

XOXOXOXO

Later that day, SG-1 sat enjoying a late lunch when Daniel looked up to a strange sight. Harry was making off with a giant jar of peanut butter with an equally large smile; the one that said "I'm up to something and you better hope it has nothing to do with you." The evil glint in his eyes and the quiet, yet distinctly mad, cackling was also very disconcerting.

"Where's Harry going with that jar of peanut butter?" he questioned his companions.

They all looked up in time to see the boy disappear out the door. After a confused pause, Jack was struck with a dawning horror and exclaimed, "Ah crap! I saw him heading for the conference room with a bottle of maple syrup, six cans of salmon paste and a big mixing bowl about half an hour ago!"

"Sir," Sam started hesitantly. "Isn't Anise in the conference room?"

They all exchanged worried looks. While the thought of whatever mischief he could get up to with those items and an arrogant Tok'ra was amusing, the possibilities were also a bit frightening. After all, they'd once seen him build a nuclear reactor out of a flashlight and toothpicks. Granted, it wasn't on purpose and he'd said he _probably_ wouldn't be able to replicate it...

They all weighed the benefits of a few laughs against the possible repercussions of a diplomatic incident, then launched themselves from their seats, hoping to stop him before he reached his destination.

Several floors away, Harry had Anise bound and gagged, dangling upside-down from the ceiling while he painted her from head to toe with a sticky brown, molasses-like mixture that reeked of fish. Once finished, he winched her up higher before leaping up onto a large steel crate. Lifting the door, he watched the indignant fury in the woman's eyes turn to terror as the nine hundred pound brown bear lumbered from its confinement.

Sniffing the air, it stalked closer to the whimpering woman, curiosity making it give her a long, languorous lick on the cheek.

Anise fainted.

XOXOXOXO

General Hammond steepled his fingers on his desk and leaned forward. "So, tell me again, why has Anise refused to ever return to Earth?"

Sam considered reminding him about the grizzly bear incident or the Tower of Terror reenactment, but before she could, Jack began explaining the latest incident that had sent the woman screaming in terror from the planet, never to return.

"Have you ever seen that episode of Star Trek, with the Tribbles?" he asked. "It was sorta like that. Except Harry called them Nargles and they ate human flesh...but they really only nibbled a bit."

XOXOXOXO

It had been a great year and a half, but Harry had finally decided it was time to move on. Surprisingly, all of the SGC had turned out to see him off, and it wasn't even because they wanted him gone. Well, not entirely.

"Will we ever see you again?" Sam asked, hugging him fondly.

He patted her on the back and reluctantly pulled away. Sure, she was a know-it-all spoilsport, but she could also be a lot of fun when prodded hard enough. Plus, most of the time she really _did_ know it all. "Probably not," he replied a bit sadly. "You guys are great, but I gotta be getting home. It's a long way away and once I'm there, I probably won't be leaving again." Granted, they thought home was another planet, not another dimension. "But hey! I've got presents!"

With a grin, he whipped a large box out of nowhere and let it thump to the floor.

"Oh lord," Hammond muttered to himself.

After rummaging through the box, Harry came up with an armful of goodies.

He handed Sam a glass sphere on a base that fit in the palm of her hand, as well as a matching glass band for her finger. "Ya remember when Apophis tried to blow up the Earth?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "The time you tried to make popcorn with his sarcophagus and caused a cascading power failure which blew up his entire ship? Or the time you and Daniel tried to hotwire a death glider and somehow created an entirely new form of life? Or the time you got him to eat that candy and turned him into a canary? Or-"

"The last time," he said, waving a hand in the air. "When I made the entire planet vanish." Receiving a nod, he pointed to the object she held and explained, "That's what did it. I used what I learned about that personal phase shifting thingy that I accidentally-on-purpose stole from a certain highly advanced race, combined with what we know about the Ancients' dimensional shifting thingy that I swear I have nothing to do with disappearing, and my own personal version of it," here he waved his not-watch at her, "and made something similar that's light-weight and portable and only usable by one person. Whoever wears the ring, controls the device, and it doesn't need massive amounts of power to use since it makes its own. Cool, huh?"

Everyone stared at him in disbelief. He continued to grin like an idiot.

"It's a snow globe," Sam said, tipping said object over and back, plastic snow flakes floating languorously through a wintery Christmas scene.

Harry was undaunted. "Well, yeah. I figure if anyone broke into your office or house and tried to steal this awesome device, that'd be the last thing they suspected it could be."

"It's a _snow globe_," she reiterated, looking at him as if he were truly deluded.

"It's magic," he replied succinctly, dismissing any further complaints by turning to Daniel.

"Check it out!" he exclaimed, thrusting a metal cylinder with a little hinged door at him. "Over two hundred years of research, eighty-four lives of lab assistants cut tragically short and thirteen arrests for indecent exposure went into the creation of this awe inspiring piece of technology! Truly, the masterwork of the field of javanology! I present you with the XL4-325.8 Mark 2!"

"What's it do?" Daniel asked, warily accepting the innocuous object.

"Makes coffee," Harry answered simply, turning to Teal'c.

"I, uh, didn't really know what to get you," he began, taking in the big guy's stoically raised eyebrow. "So, how about the liberation of your entire race?"

The first eyebrow was joined by the second.

Harry pulled out a simple swirly pinwheel and what looked suspiciously like a Star Trek hypospray. He handed the pinwheel to Teal'c and the hypospray to Janet. "The pinwheel is an anti mind control device which helps open minds to the 'truth', and that," he said, pointing to the device in the doctor's hands, "is an ever-full immune system booster that will also work on other immunodeficiency disorders."

Janet looked surprised, not at what he had handed her, but that he know what an immunodeficiency disorder _was_.

"Jaaaaack," he crooned with a fond look that, not for the first time, had people questioning his sexuality. "My favorite alien bait. We had some grand times and I had a hard time deciding what to give you. I already fixed that annoying knee, and made you twenty years younger, so that you can spend more time having sex with Daniel."

Daniel sputtered and turned red.

"Or Sam."

Sam sputtered and turned red.

"Or both."

He dodged a headslap from Sam.

"At the same time."

This time all three hit him.

"Or whatever, or should I say _who_ever," he finished with a shrug and a suggestive eyebrow waggle. "Finally, I decided there was only one thing that could adequately express my feelings of affection for you." Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a blonde furball with big floppy feet and cute little ears and big blue eyes and big sharp teeth.

"Floppy!" Jack exclaimed, reaching for the Nargle with a happy smile.

Floppy leaped from Harry's hands and into Jack's arms with a happy "Naaaaar-gle!" The man immediately snuggled him against his chest. Floppy took a bite out of his shirt sleeve, swallowed and then purred, pausing a moment to glare at those too close to his favorite human.

Everyone outside SG-1 took a collective step back from the unholy terror.

"Well," Harry said, clapping his hands together. "Looks like my time here is over! So, for everyone else..." He threw his hands upward. "FURBIES!" And Furbies began raining from the ceiling.

While everyone was distracted, he flicked a switch on his not-watch and turned it until it clicked once. He disappeared with a brief ripple effect, a chorus of "Me hungry!" and "Poo-poo!" bidding him farewell.

Later, after Floppy had stopped savagely mauling the Furbies and the bits of broken toy parts had been cleaned up, Daniel found that his gift didn't just make coffee. It made the best damn coffee in the entire universe. The MPs had to scrape him off the ceiling and the device was now a closely guarded secret on par with the Stargate. The rest of the base quickly discovered that Daniel did not like to share, and that he'd taught Floppy to "Sic 'em!"

Two years later, Cassie Frasier accidentally broke Sam's beloved snow globe. The world, permanently hidden for some time and experiencing a remarkable time of peace and prosperity, did not suddenly reappear and leave them vulnerable. Thus, the woman discovered that it really was just a snow globe. The magic was in the ring.

She still thought Harry was an idiot.

XOXOXOXO

Rose Tyler wasn't quite sure what the fuss was about, as they had only just arrived and not had enough time to piss the locals off quite this thoroughly, but she'd had enough experience with lynch mobs to know when she should run.

She ignored her companion's cheerful greeting to the angry throng, grabbed him by the sleeve and began running back the direction they'd come. Ducking into a barn, the two dove into the piles of hay seconds before the pitchfork-toting villagers passed by.

"Oi!" a voice exclaimed from somewhere deeper in the hay. "Watch where you're poking that thing!"

Her companion rolled over and off a small figure, sticking his favorite tool back in his pocket. "So sorry," he said, rising to his feet now that they were safe and pulling what appeared to be a young man up as well. "Sonic screwdriver. Good for all occasions."

"Well, isn't that nice for you?" the boy replied sarcastically while picking straw out of his hair.

Rose looked the boy over and quickly came to the conclusion that in no way did he belong in sixteenth century France. He wore what appeared to be brown leather trousers, a dark green t-shirt and a long black coat. She might have said he was a girl, with his long hair and delicate features, had the trousers not been two sizes too small and giving her a full body blush at the sight they provided. She also took note of a futuristic looking belt with many devices and, strangely enough, a well polished stick hanging from it.

"Where are you from?" she asked curiously.

He paused in dusting himself off to look up at her, making her heart flutter like a schoolgirl when she met the most enchanting green eyes she'd ever seen. "Gallifrey," he quipped, then went back to removing huge handfuls of straw from his coat pockets.

Her companion, who had been babbling about who knows what, suddenly went silent.

"R-really?" she squeaked in amazement.

The boy looked up again, this time with a furrowed brow, as if confused by her reaction. After studying her for a moment, he rolled his eyes, placed a hand on his hip and struck what was a very feminine, yet seemingly natural, pose. "Lord no," he scoffed. "Spent a few years there. Most boring people this side of Krypton. Late twentieth century Earth, that's where it's at! 'Course, those Dwarves of Arda certainly know how to throw a party, but it's just not as fun without strippers, and let me tell you now, you don't _ever_ want to see a Dwarf strip. Then again, the Goa'uld have hot chicks, but most of them take themselves way too seriously. Honestly, you try to give a girl a compliment and she throws you across the room!"

He paused for a moment, eyes drifting upward as he tried to remember what started that monologue. "Oh!" he exclaimed, ignoring the fact that at least one of the two before him hadn't followed more than a quarter of that. "I'm pretty much from all over. I do a lot of traveling. Not quite sure where I was born." It was true. He thought he'd probably been born in Godric's Hollow, or maybe St. Mungo's, but no one had seen fit to tell him before he'd left his universe.

Looking the two over, he took note of their non-period dress and asked curiously, "Who are you?"

Rose blushed as his gaze roved her body and answered, "I'm Rose." Motioning to her companion, who still didn't seem quite convinced that the boy _wasn't_ from Gallifrey, she said, "This is the Doctor."

The boy's eyes lit up and instantly snapped to the other man. _'Great,'_ she thought wryly. _'His reputation proceeds him again.'  
_  
"Really?" the boy asked excitedly. When the Doctor nodded, still watching the boy keenly, he beamed at him. "Did you know, I pretended to be you once." He grinned almost maniacally. "There were a lot of sedatives used that day."  


* * *

AN: I appreciate all your suggestions. They've given me some absolutely _lovely_ ideas. -evil leer-


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